Revenge Is A Dish Best Served In A Basket
by LauraCynthia
Summary: Nobody can hold a grudge like Toby. Nobody. But not for long. Post-"Going South" (for those who don't remember, Walter was interviewed by a reporter and barely mentioned the others. Toby still can't let it go.)


The first thing Walter saw when he ambled into the room was the basket.

Innocuously placed in the centre of the table, on top of a single white placemat. Constructed of yellow straw in a classic wide-bottomed style. A bright royal blue bow tied around its braided handle in a square knot at a 49 degree angle; a white embossed tag on the opposite side at an 87 degree angle. Wrapped in clear cellophane, and secured with 2 inch thick chartreuse ribbons that had been curled at the ends using a pair of sharp scissors.

And that was all from glancing at it for two seconds.

Before he could move closer to examine its contents, a flash of movement caught his eye. Toby popped out from behind his desk, jogging towards the table. He held up a hand, palm facing Walter. "Don't touch it. Not yet."

Walter stepped back fluidly. "Okay. Is it going to explode if I do?"

But Toby wasn't listening. Instead, he stuck his fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. Sylvester looked up from his computer screen, still managing to type as he did so. Happy, loud music blasting through a set of red wireless headphones, was happily focused on assembling something that looked like a cross between a bicycle and a vacuum cleaner.

Toby let his hands fall to his sides. "Oh, come on. You don't want to miss this." He beckoned Sylvester over even as he crossed the room and yanked Happy's headphones off, tugging on her hair a little. "Ouch!" she cried, her head lifting, her eyes squinted. Upon seeing who it was, she raised the wrench she was holding like a dagger, a cheesed expression on her face. "Why'd you kill my tunes, Curtis?" she snapped, slapping the open palm of one hand with the tool.

Toby held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, in the interest of self-preservation, that may have been an uber-_giant_ leap backwards, but trust me, you'll thank me later."

"Somehow, I doubt that," she muttered, rubbing her head, but putting the wrench down on the table with a small _clunk_. She circled her worktable and joined the other three by the basket.

Toby clasped his hands together and cleared his throat, bowing his head, eyes closed. "Ahem. Before I make this presentation, I'd just like to take a moment to say, 'I'm sorry'. I _may_ or may not have treated a certain person rather unfairly in light of recent events. I am only human, however that's no excuse. I ask you to please accept my most humble apologies, and this gift as a token of them." He reached for the basket and held it for a few seconds.

Then thrust it towards _Walter_. Who appeared surprised, but only just, as usual.

Happy wrinkled her nose. "What?"

Sylvester stared at the basket, as though he could read the answers printed on its side.

Walter looked down at the basket and up at Toby again. "Why did you give me this? It is not my birthday or any other major holiday associated with gift giving."

Toby pulled his hat down lower and cocked his head to one side. "Well, why don't you just open it and see?" His eyes rose until they almost disappeared under the brim.

Walter set the basket down and untied the ribbon from the cellophane wrap. Spreading it flat on the table, he reached into the basket and pulled out several items.

First, a mirror. He turned it around, light reflecting off the walls. "A personal reflective surface." Sylvester squinted as the light bounced off his glasses. Walter winced, and set the object face down on the table.

"Gilt edged, too. Go on."

A pot of blue flowers came next. "_Myosotis sylvatica."_

Toby touched the brim of his hat. "Alias forget-me-nots."

A tubular object with a rubber hand grip on one end and a clamp on the other. "Hmmm…" He telescoped and collapsed it several times. "Possibly useful in a future case."

He passed it to Happy, who peered at it for a second. "It's called a 'selfie stick'." She glanced at Toby. "What are you up to?"

"You'll see," Toby sang cryptically, rolling his eyes. "Keep going."

Several small plastic egg-shaped pods in various colors. Walter removed them one or two at a time, reading the labels as he did so. "'MiO Water Liquid Enhancer' - nutritionally worthless, potentially harmful." He shook his head. "People can't even drink water these days without feeling the need to stimulate their taste buds."

"Everything has to be a multisensory experience." Toby added. "Are you getting it now?"

A box of Eggo waffles, with one of the g's blacked out. Walter frowned. "Odd. Now it spells 'ego'."

Sylvester raised one finger in the air. "Why would somebody do that? Without the rest of the cipher, you couldn't possibly-"

Happy pressed her lips together to hide a smile.

"What?" Sylvester asked.

"I think I know what's going on. But I'm not telling. I want to see this play out." She leaned forward.

Walter lifted a white folded piece of fabric from the bottom of the basket, shaking out the wrinkles and holding it in front of his body. A large tee-shirt, similar to the ones that said "I 3 NY". Instead of the letters 'NY', however, was a large picture of Walter's face.

He looked down the length of his body to the photo, turning the shirt around to stare at the picture, before turning it again. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Toby stroked his chin, thinking. "Oh, gee, I don't know…wear it to your _next interview_, perhaps?" He looked down at his shoes before meeting Walter's gaze again, glaring.

Sylvester's eyes lit with understanding. He glanced at Happy, whose smile had spread across her face. "_I thought so_," she mouthed.

Walter lowered the shirt and tossed it onto the table. He gazed down into the basket. "And the lipstick?"

"Why don't you put it on and kiss yourself?" Toby hissed bitterly. He whipped his hat off and slapped it against the table, before shoving his hands in his pockets, pouting.

Sylvester stared at him, open-mouthed.

Walter furrowed his brows, confused and taken aback. "You _still_ haven't forgotten about that?"

Happy walked over to Toby, arms crossed. "So this is you apologizing, huh?" She poked him in the chest. "'Sorry'? That was downright pathetic."

A little of the anger faded from Toby's eyes. "Okay, maybe a _little_ pathetic. And a teense cathartic." He pinched the air. "No hard feelings?" he asked, blushing in embarrassment.

"That, my friend, would be impossible." Walter smiled slightly.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs caught their attention. Paige jogged over to the group, the soles of her shoes shuffling against the floor. "Hi guys." They all nodded at her. Paige pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. "Did somebody raid a bakery? I was just in the kitchen and there's 3 dozen cupcakes with the words, 'Yay, Me!' written on them in purple frosting. What's up with that?"

All eyes turned back to Toby, who blushed an even deeper shade of pink. He tugged on his collar. "Ummm...serendipity?" His voice came out strangled.

Happy shook her head. "Try again, moron." She turned to Paige and mouthed, "_Long story._"

Toby sighed. "All right, all right. If I let you guys eat them, will you forgive me?" Before the words were out of his mouth, the group was already more than halfway up the stairs. He paused at the bottom of the steps and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Don't forget to brush your teeth afterwards!" he hollered.

A single cupcake dropped from the ceiling and landed squarely on his face with a squish. "Ow." Toby removed it, leaving behind a white and purple smear. He tipped his head to the side. "Okay, I probably deserved that." He took a bite of the dessert.

"You know what's good with cupcakes? Milk." A glass full of white liquid spilled down onto his bare head. He squinted his eyes shut, sighing as the milk ran down over his face, behind his ears, and through his hair.

Opening one eye, he chanced a look up the staircase. "Are you through yet?" he asked in his best exasperated parent voice.

Happy's impish face appeared over the side of the railing. "I don't know, am I?" Her mouth was covered with frosting. "Come up and see."

Toby headed up the stairs, taking another bite of the splattered cupcake. "Fine. But do me a favor? If you've got to release your aggression by throwing food, would you mind not using projectiles that cost me $5 a pop?"


End file.
